


The Underground

by Villieldr



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: BAMF all around - Freeform, Dad Grillby, F/F, Flashbacks, Gen, Ghouls can drink a little, Mentions of Gaster, Mentions of past experimentation, More tags in the future, One-eyed ghouls can eat some human food, PTSD, Post-Aogiri AU, Post-Baby Bones/Baby Blasters, Post-Neutral Route - Family Ending, Protective Sans, TG-class gore in the future, ghoul au, maybe? - Freeform, mentions of past character death, not-so-innocent Papyrus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Villieldr/pseuds/Villieldr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A week has passed since the incident with the Aogiri in the 11th Ward and Kaneki has been staying with Anteiku ever since. But he finds himself spiraling deeper into the dark, feeling hopeless and weak as terrors come to him both in waking and in sleep. Yoshimura, knowing of the young man's demons, calls for help from a long-time friend.</p>
<p>Little did they know that it would be the start of Ken Kaneki's journey with a ghoul organization long thought to be extinct.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lady

_“S-Seven hundred…sixty-seveEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENGH!!”_

_“What are you waiting for, Kaneki-kun? Keep counting!”_

_“…..nngh..sev-ven hundred…s-sixty…seven hundred…fifteeeEEEEEEEGGGGGGGGGGGGHH!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”_

_“Ah, Kaneki-kun! How I want to devour you! Your screams, your useless writhing…you make me so hungry! Gahahahaha!”_

_“…p-pleasePLEASE! J-Just KILL Me alREADY! PleASe!”_

_“What did I tell you about stopping? Start over! And here’s something that’ll teach you why you shouldn’t stop counting!”_

_“NOnOnonoOOOOOOOOOoKAaaAASAaanwhYWHYwhyyyYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY – “_

“Gah!”

He came to with a start, sweat glistening on his brow and lead gray eyes wide in hazy terror. Panicking, he brought his hands up to his face, counting all ten fingers, before throwing off the covers. After making sure that there were ten toes attached to his feet, he huddled up against the headboard, folding his legs to his chest and burying his face in his thighs.

“It’s over,” he whispered to himself, “it’s over. It’s over.”

He looked at his hands again. A week had passed since the massive attack on the 11th Ward and his fingers and toes no longer bore jagged scarring, thanks to his high regeneration. Yet every night, he found himself back in that empty dome, tied to a chair and begging, pleading for reprieve, for sweet, sweet death. Though he no longer had the physical traces left, Ken Kaneki knew that what he had been through would forever be branded in his memory.

Yamori’s shark-like grin…the anguished screams of the couple who had wanted to help him…Rize’s thick blood on his tongue and soft flesh between his teeth as he finally accepted her…

With much difficulty, he shook himself out of it. Taking note of the clock by his bedside, he decided that he might as well wake up and get dressed. Settling for a regular white shirt and black pants, he stepped out of his borrowed bedroom and into the hallway of Anteiku’s residence area. Yoshimura had thought it best to keep him here, what with the young man’s changed appearance and all, rather than have him live alone in his own apartment.

Plus, he didn’t have a choice back then. Exhausted and tired of his own weakness, at his inability to _protect_ , he had just revealed his decision to join the Aogiri Tree to Touka when Nishiki swooped in and knocked him out with a firm kick to the head.

_‘Touka…’_

He passed by her door on his way to the ground floor. Given that it currently was a weekend, the bluenette was most likely sleeping in. Kaneki halted his pace to stand at her door, a hand brought up to knock –

He remembered then the raw hurt that had flashed in her indigo eyes at his announcement of leaving Anteiku. Even when she had helped in dragging his ass back to where it rightfully belonged, she hadn’t spoken to him once in the week that followed. It showed just how upset she was and still is over his decision, but still respected it enough that she didn’t tell Hinami or the others about it.

The only ones who knew about his near breaking off would be Touka, eavesdropping Nishiki and Yoshimura who he had confided in when the nightmares became too much for him.

_‘Besides, she never opened the door when she was awake.’_

With a heavy sigh, he went his way to help set up the café before its opening hour. He didn’t work as one of its waiters anymore, not with how his snowy white hair and solemn gaze made him stand out, but he still wanted to help as much as he could even if it was just from the sidelines.

His footsteps were heavy as he marched down the stairs, not knowing that behind the door he stood before earlier, there was a hand still hovering over the doorknob.

-|||-

The knock on the café door startled him out his thoughts. Kaneki paused his sweeping as Yoshimura went to unlock the door. He waited for the old man’s signal, prepared to dash back into his room upstairs if need be. After all, it might be just an early visit from either Tsukiyama or Uta or maybe Yomo coming in with stock for the pantry.

“Ah. You are quite early.”

“You know me, Yoshimura-san,” a feminine voice answered from beyond the doorway. “Is it okay if I brought my child with me? I didn’t wish to leave her alone given that today is a weekend.”

“It’s no problem, Ma’am. Please, come in. You are always welcome here at Anteiku.”

Turning to let the mystery visitor in, Yoshimura nodded at Kaneki with a smile, meaning that the younger man could stay. The visitor was a woman with graying hair, looking to be in her late forties. She wore a simple lilac dress and a string of pearls around her neck. Gripping her right hand was a girl who appeared just a few years younger than Kaneki himself, her chocolate brown hair reaching a little past her shoulders and her eyes…strangely closed.

“Kaneki-kun, please come closer,” his former boss beckoned and he obliged. “This is Toriel Thromeborn-sama and her daughter. Toriel-sama is an important figure in the ghoul world.”

“You flatter me, Yoshimura-san,” Toriel waved off good-naturedly before turning to the other. “Hello, young man. You must be Ken Kaneki-kun, yes?”

“U-Um…yeah,” the artificial ghoul stuttered, bowing down in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Toriel-sama.”

“Oh, just drop that way of addressing me, Ken Kaneki-kun. Yoshimura-san just calls me that to spite me, I swear. Oh, and this young lady here is my daughter, Frisk. Greet the nice young man, my child.”

Frisk just waved shyly, tipping her head up at him with her eyes still closed. Kaneki found it honestly unnerving in a way.

“Kaneki-kun, would you please prepare Toriel-sama and her child their drinks? The regular American, I take it?”

“With a hint of brown sugar and milk, yes. Frisk here will probably just have a cup of hot chocolate. She doesn’t like coffee that much.”

Kaneki nodded, making his way behind the counter to start on the orders. Preparing coffee always did have a calming effect on him, but now, he let his mind wander. Yoshimura must have something urgent to discuss with Toriel if she had come here an hour before the actual opening, something that most likely included him if he was allowed to stay. Didn’t the old man say something about her being big in the ghoul world?

He froze just as he was about done with the hot chocolate. With how his former boss talked to her like an old friend, Toriel was more or less a ghoul. But what did that make her daughter Frisk if she preferred chocolate over coffee…?

Clearing his head, he took the beverages in his hands and set them down before the two customers who had claimed a table for themselves near the counter. Toriel looked up at him, her burgundy eyes twinkling with delight.

“Thank you, Ken Kaneki-kun. You are really kind,” she praised then took a careful sip, her smile widening. “And you make good coffee.”

“I-It’s nothing, Ma’am. I did learn from the best after all.”

At that, the woman sent a knowing look at the manager of Anteiku.

“I believe you did. Yoshimura-san, may we have some of those delicious sandwiches of yours? Frisk and I haven’t had breakfast yet, especially since I had told her how wonderful the food here tastes.”

“Of course, Toriel-sama. I shall prepare the specials for you two.”

Kaneki watched as his former boss disappeared behind the door near the counter, knowing full well that the special sandwiches Yoshimura was going to make catered to any ghoul’s appetite. He turned back around when he heard a throat being cleared.

“Ken Kaneki-kun? Why don’t you grab a chair and sit for a while? I wish to talk to you about something.”

Blinking, it took a moment for the young man to nod and do as he was told. He sat by Toriel’s right and waited, Frisk paying no mind as she slurped at her hot chocolate in content.

“I have received a call from Yoshimura-san yesterday,” she began, her features contorting into one of seriousness. “I heard that you wanted to become stronger?”

It was a question seeking confirmation, not a statement, but it put Kaneki on edge all the same.

“…you know what happened at the 11th Ward?” he questioned, voice quiet yet tense.

“I don’t have the full details. Yoshimura-san thought it best that you open up with time. However, I am rather disturbed that you would join the enemy just to gain strength.”

He clenched his teeth at her words, reminded of his past decision.

“The strength I want to gain is so that I can protect the ones closest to me. The Aogiri had shown everyone just how undefeatable they are a week ago. I just...don’t want to feel weak again.”

He forced his eyes shut as his mind flashed back to his helplessness at the cruel hands of Yamori, his inability to save the two people who had wanted to free him. Rize’s taunting words and dark promises still echoed in his ear and he thought he was finally free of her now that he had accepted her presence as a part of him. But it seemed that the nightmares just got worse every night ever since his capture.

A huff had him lifting his eyelids, the smile on Toriel’s lips rueful as her burgundy gaze glazed over in reminiscence.

“The Aogiri Tree? Those bastards are nothing but tyrants, using their power to strike fear in the hearts of many and make them feel weak. I should have had that one weed in my yard pulled out before it could multiply. Instead, I let it flourish.”

The aura around her seemed to darken, making her look more intimidating. Her daughter must have sensed this for she had set her cup down and turned to her in concern. Yoshimura chose that moment to reenter.

“Toriel-sama is the leader of an organization that had full participation in the Tokyo Revolution seventeen years ago,” he explained as he set down a plate of ghoul-special sandwiches on the table. “The Tokyo Revolution had been created to have the government accept ghouls into society, only to end in a civil war where the ghouls lost. But even now, the Underground still fights for ghoul rights though they take cover amongst the shadows.”

“It’s because of that one incident,” Toriel countered, sighing, “with that one man Asgore and I had put our full trust in. Turns out, he had been a mole for a smaller group, most likely what would become the Aogiri Tree, that went and sabotaged the treaty signing event between us, the Underground, and the CCG. Seriously, we should have killed every one of those snakes when we had the chance. Because of them, whatever was left of the bridge between us and the CCG had been burned down completely. Because of them, the Underground has been laying low for fourteen years already, few in number and unable to completely come to the aid of the oppressed.”

She paused to sigh again and reached for a sandwich, Frisk following her lead a hesitant second later. She took a bite and hummed in satisfaction before raising an eyebrow at the oldest person present.

“There is a mistake in your statement, Yoshimura-san,” she mentioned, her dark mood lifting. “I am no longer the Queen of the Underground.”

“Is that so?” the elder asked with a slight frown. “It appears that I am not updated with your organization’s comings and goings.”

“It’s been a long time since we last saw each other and I haven’t heard a single word from you and Anteiku until yesterday. I gave up my position two years ago.”

“To whom, if I may ask?”

“A most loyal general and most trusted friend. One of the strongest beings I have ever met in my whole life.”

She turned back to Kaneki, her friendly smile making a comeback.

“And he will mentor you on how to become a better fighter, Ken Kaneki-kun. You will become stronger under his guidance. There is no one as skilled as him when it comes to combat, both physically and mentally. And he has a heart of fire, warm and ablaze for those he wishes to protect, merciless and vindictive to those who seek to destroy what’s his.”

“Toriel-sama, are you saying that the current King is – “

“Yes, Yoshimura-san. He is exactly the person you’re thinking of. I suggest that you meet up with him as soon as possible to rekindle the ties between Anteiku and the Underground. And as for you, Ken Kaneki-kun…”

“Yes, Toriel-sama?”

“I shall recommend you to him later. He doesn’t have it in him to refuse most requests, more so if they are from friends and family. But I believe that he’ll accept you quite easily. After all, he had been in your shoes back when he was a young man like you.”

Her smile morphed again, this time holding a sharper edge.

“Besides, the traitor I had mentioned earlier had once become a good friend of his just to catch him off guard. He has a bone to pick with the Aogiri. Then again, almost every remaining member of the Underground has the same predicament. Isn’t that right, my child?”

Frisk hummed in approval, both of her eyes wide open much to Kaneki’s surprise. Her left eye was a pitch black void, too deep and too wise on someone her age while her right one was a ghoul’s distinct kakugan.

Kaneki found himself staring in shock.

“Frisk is half-ghoul,” he heard Toriel say, “which is why she can drink hot chocolate. The Aogiri had killed her biological family and took her in to turn her into their assassin. They had sent her to finish off what was left of our group and had almost succeeded.”

“I see,” Yoshimura stated thoughtfully, “so it was her who killed Asgore-sama five years ago.”

The young girl instantly deflated, slumping in her seat as her eyes filled with tears. Toriel abandoned her sandwich and went over to her to wrap her in a firm embrace.

“It’s not your fault, okay? Those bad people made you do it. You didn’t know,” the woman whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her daughter’s back before diverting her attention to the other two in the café. “If you ask me, Yoshimura-san, it was only about time that my ex-husband was killed. Asgore had been on the verge of madness back then from murdering and eating six ghoul children, forcing himself to turn into a kakuja so he could take on both the CCG and the Aogiri himself. He may have seemed kind and gentle on the outside, but on the inside, he was nothing but a man rotting in his sins.”

She pulled away to let her child wipe her tears dry. Frisk’s eyes were back to being closed as she sniffled a bit. She smiled when her mother petted her hair.

“I managed to turn her to our side later after Asgore’s death. The information she gave us about the Aogiri had allowed us to retaliate. She is the reason why those snakes have no territory in the 22nd Ward. Because of her, we had managed to drive them out. Now, she is very much a part of the Underground, welcomed and loved by its members greatly. She even works part-time at the current King’s place.”

At this, Frisk perked up. Her hands moved rapidly in weird motions and it took Kaneki a moment to realize that she was using some kind of sign language. Toriel nodded at her.

“Good idea, my child. Frisk here wants to volunteer as a guide for you should you choose to visit the King personally. She knows the way very well.”

“I’m happy that she wants to so eagerly. I accept your offer, Frisk-chan.”

The brunette beamed up at Yoshimura and signed something to him. Her mother translated for her.

“She says thank you, Yoshimura-san. She promises to be helpful.”

“I look forward to that. When shall I pick her up then? Or will she come back to Anteiku?”

“Hmm…you’d use the usual route, right? If that’s the case, I’ll have her wait at Itsy Bitsy Bakery for you to pick up. It’s the first violet building you see when entering the 22nd Ward. As for when, it’s all up to the King. He’ll most likely call you after I recommend Ken Kaneki-kun to him. If he doesn’t, I’ll call and tell you. His two jobs tend to make him busy so he might not be able to phone you at once.”

“Of course. We shall await his call then.”

“Right. Well then, Frisk and I shall take our leave. We’ve been keeping you from opening up for quite a while already.”

She took what was left of her sandwich and finished it, her child having finished hers earlier. She was reaching into her small handbag when the Anteiku manager stopped her.

“It’s on the house, Toriel-sama. Seeing a good friend again after such a long time is enough payment.”

“How sweet of you, Yoshimura-san. I thank both you and Ken Kaneki-kun for your kindness. Say goodbye and thank you to the good men, Frisk.”

The girl signed so happily, grinning wide at them. She then went to the door and held it open for her mother.

“A-Ano…Toriel-sama?”

“Yes, Ken Kaneki-kun?”

“…will the King of the Underground really accept me?”

The woman smiled at the artificial ghoul reassuringly.

“He will, Ken Kaneki-kun. I have no doubts about that.”

And with a wave, the two visitors left the café, the bell ringing as the door closed behind them. Kaneki heard Yoshimura chuckle.

“It really is good to see her again. Now, come and help me set up the finishing touches, Kaneki-kun. We are almost thirty minutes past the opening hour.”

The expected call came later that night.

-|||-

The meeting was on Saturday, 2:30 in the afternoon. By 1:50, Kaneki and Yoshimura were entering the 22nd Ward in a car driven by Yomo.

“Ah. There it is, Yomo. Stop right in front of that violet building.”

The silver-haired man obliged without a word. The car coming to a halt but its engine still purring, Kaneki turned to the building on his right. Itsy Bitsy Bakery was quaint and easily an eye catcher despite being the only ground-level establishment in the surrounding area. Its signboard and one wide window had been decorated with black spider prints and faux cobwebs. From outside the window, one can see the pastries on display inside, beautiful things ranging from cookies to cakes with spider themes and designs.

Mouth watering at the memory of their sweetness, Kaneki was brought back to reality by the opening of the car door. Yoshimura had stepped out of the passenger seat next to the driver, leaving the door open as he fixed his coat.

As if on cue, the bakery door slammed open.

Frisk jogged out of the violet building, dressed in a simple white blouse, black flared skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Right behind her was a slender woman in an apron and a frilly fuchsia dress. She didn’t look as old as Toriel, probably just in her late twenties, and her short black hair was tied in two pigtails by fuchsia ribbons. She stayed at the doorway as Frisk gave her a hug.

“You be a good _belle_ now, Frisk, _oui_?” she reminded, blue-black eyes glinting softly. “And you tell ze King and everyone else zat Muffet says ‘ello~”

The young girl nodded before letting go. She walked towards the car as the woman – Muffet? – waved at her goodbye.

“ _Au revoir_ , _ma cheri_! ‘Ave a safe trip! Ahuhuhu~”

Then her eyes turned crimson as she directed them at the old man holding the car door open. Yoshimura seemed unfazed as he nodded and closed the door, but the threat was still as clear as crystal.

_‘Hurt even a strand of her hair and I’ll kill you.’_

A tap on his knee had Kaneki facing forward. Frisk was already seated next to Yomo, waving at the artificial ghoul with a grin. He flashed her a small smile of his own. The door to the backseat opened and in came Yoshimura. Kaneki scooted to the left to give him room.

“Hello, Frisk-chan,” he greeted warmly as he shut the door. “The driver is Renji Yomo. He is a valuable member of my group. Please direct him where he needs to go.”

Frisk waved at Yomo just as enthusiastically. The silver-haired man nodded at her, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he pulled the car out of its stasis.

Even as they drove away, Kaneki can still pretty much feel Muffet’s stare on them.

The girl was bouncing as she showed them the way, pointing left or right when the time called for it. Yomo directed the car to where she wanted it to go, that ghost of a smile still armed as he let little fingers fly to the right direction. Kaneki found himself smiling as well when his former boss started a conversation.

“There are some things you need to know about the King of the Underground, Kaneki-kun.”

This sentence got his attention entirely.

“What about the King, Yoshimura-san?”

“Just like most of the Underground, the King is not a native of our country. He had fled to Tokyo a long time ago like many others when ghoul suppression became extreme elsewhere. Of course, we have the CCG, but I have heard from Toriel-sama that from where she had come from alone, it became so much that she and her acquaintances had to hide underneath the streets of their home city where the authorities had difficulty tracking them in. Hence the name of their organization.”

“The Underground…anything else, Sir?”

“Yes. The King is not like any normal ghoul. He is what one would call a Jack.”

From where he was seated, Kaneki had seen Yomo tense at the word. Seconds of unnerving silence later, his deep voice permeated the ambience.

“…are you speaking the truth, Sir? Jacks are…very rare to encounter and have quite a short lifespan, if I’m not mistaken.”

The youngest male in the car decided to throw his question in.

“What’s a Jack?”

“Good question, Kaneki-kun,” Yoshimura praised. “A Jack is a ghoul with no true RC type. They may be able to form their RC cells in any kind of kagune they want, but they are not ukaku, koukaku, rinkaku or bikaku. They gained their name from ‘Jack-of-all-trades’, meaning they have no specific specialty of their own but are very flexible and capable of taking up different masteries. This flexibility makes them dangerous and highly unpredictable in battle.”

“No true RC type? But how can they form kagune of their own if they don’t belong to a specific RC type?”

“It’s unknown to both us non-Jacks and the humans. Most consider this a genetic mutation that appears in one in ten million, a mutation that was discovered just fifty years ago in the UK. Like how Yomo said it himself, Jacks are extremely rare and the instability of the kagune they form makes them very susceptible to RC cell draining. After death, their bodies decompose unusually quicker than normal, leaving no room for an autopsy to take place. Their stamina is normally worse than that of an ukaku ghoul’s and they can live only up to an estimate of thirty years if they keep using their kagune repeatedly. However…”

Yoshimura paused to gather his breath. Kaneki could see Frisk still pointing out the right directions, but she had her head turned slightly to the left as she listened in on their conversation.

“The current King of the Underground had been one of the major players of the Tokyo Revolution seventeen years ago. He had trained under Asgore-sama, a koukaku ghoul, himself and was appointed as a general of the Underground. When the civil war broke out, he had immediately taken arms and fought. It is said that amongst the body count the Underground had inflicted upon the CCG in their retaliation, more than half had been his alone.”

Yomo drew in a shaky breath.

“So you’re saying,” he proceeded calmly, carefully, “that the head of an organization that is long thought to be extinct, that the man we are going to visit and who will be Kaneki’s mentor is none other the Inferno himself?”

“…the I-Inferno?” Kaneki stuttered quietly, a small jolt of fear rushing down his spine at the name.

“Yes, Yomo, and you have nothing to fear of him. I have met him myself quite a while ago, near the end of the Tokyo Revolution, and though he may have been a fierce fighter, he had admitted that he hated the moniker the CCG gave him very much.”

The old man paused, a thoughtful frown marring his features.

“Now that I think about it, he had resembled you a lot back then, Kaneki-kun.”

“E-Eh? Really?”

“Indeed. Despite his reputation, he had been a quiet man, mostly keeping to himself when not engaging with others. When he fought, it was for his comrades and the well-beings of Asgore-sama and Toriel-sama, both of them he considered the only closest thing he had to a family. He had fought not  in revenge, not to strike terror in the hearts of humans, but to protect.”

Kaneki looked away and at his reflection on the car window to his left. He could hear Frisk hum in approval. He remembered Toriel’s words to him a few days ago.

_“After all, he had been in your shoes back when he was a young man like you.”_

The dread in his heart turned into hope. Maybe the King can really teach him, can help him become stronger.

“Frisk says we’re here. Let me pull the car into a stop.”

Yomo’s voice grounded him. The rumbling of the engine was cut and the four of them got out of the car.  Kaneki looked around, finding nothing to catch his eye in the area until he swiveled his head to the right.

The apartment was taller than any other building he had seen so far in the peaceful 22nd Ward, four storeys high and a darker brown in color. The ground floor had yellow-tinted windows set in white frames, the blinds behind them revealing nothing of the inside. Three steps of light-hued cobblestone led to a door of burgundy-grained wood. A large neon sign hung above the windows and door, unlit given the time of the day.

“Grillby’s,” the artificial ghoul read the sign, the strange word in English alphabet flowing off his tongue easily.

“It’s 2:20,” Yoshimura stated with a glance from his wristwatch. “Maybe we can wait outside – “

But Frisk was already up the steps and knocking at the door. It opened instantly and she stepped inside, voices greeting her from beyond. She gave a wave to whoever it was inside and turned around to motion at the other three to come in.

“My, my. It seems that Frisk is inviting us in. Come, Yomo, Kaneki-kun. Let’s go inside.”

With nods from his two companions, the three men went up the steps and entered the apartment.

-|||-

“What’s taking him so long? His guests might arrive any second now!”

“ _Tibia_ honest, bro, I have no clue. Why don’t ya _humerus_ me and hazard a guess?”

“Sans, shut the fuck up or I’ll smash your pun-abusing skull in.”

“U-Undyne! D-Don’t say that!”

“What? No _punnybone_ on ya, Miss Fishy?”

The scarlet-haired woman with a black eyepatch over her left eye growled and was instantly on her feet. A smaller bespectacled female with short blonde hair clung to her arm desperately.

“C-Calm down!” She pleaded, trying to hold the enraged redhead back. “Undyne!”

A tall young man with white hair got in the way, his silvery-gray eyes beseeching as he placed his hands on her shoulders calmly.

“Undyne,” he started evenly, “please relax. You’re worrying Alphys. Sans is just bored. He doesn’t – “

“Aw, come on, Paps,” drawled out another white-haired man sitting slumped on the bar counter, shorter by a head but obviously older. “Let her be. She’s got a _bone_ to pick with me? I say let her come forth.”

The taller looked over his shoulder and at his brother, his face deadpan.

“Niisan, are you serious?”

“And YOU BET I WILL!” Undyne practically screeched, struggling to get to her target. “I’LL RIP YOUR FUCKING THROAT – “

A knock on the door silenced her tirade. Undyne immediately calmed, Alphys, the blonde that had been clinging to her, helping her pat down her rumpled white dress shirt. Sans looked up from where he slumped when he felt a glare on him.

“Eh? What’s the matter, Papyrus?”

Papyrus only glared harder.

“ _Cranium_ not – “

“NIISAN!”

“Okay, okay. Chill your femur, bro. That was a bad pun anyway. Lemme go get the door.”

He hopped off the barstool, not even bothering to fix his tousled white hair or take off his casual blue hoodie as he went for the door, much to Papyrus’s chagrin. He opened it when he was near, grinning when a familiar brunette a few inches shorter than him bounded in. The greetings came almost instantly.

“Frisk-chan! You made it here safely!”

“Friiiiiiiiisk! Let’s go train already dammit!”

“Oh, Frisk-chan! I’ve g-got a new anime I-I want to share with y-you.”

“Heya, kid. How ya doin’?”

Frisk waved at them, also smiling ear to ear, before signing at them to get ready. Taking the knob herself, she held the door open and peered out, signaling something to someone. Sans and Papyrus had just enough time to share a glance when three men stepped into the bar and the girl shut the door behind them.

Oh.

_Oh._

“W-Welcome!” It was Papyrus who saved the day with that boisterous voice of his as he approached their guests. “You must be here for Grillby!”

“Indeed we are, young man,” the eldest of them replied, taking off his dapper hat and bowing his head slightly. “It seems that we have come ten minutes earlier than the intended meeting time. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, my kind Sir! Grillby is currently not here though as he had a quick matter to discuss with a friend at their place. Nonetheless, I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Please have a seat and wait a little longer!”

The old man nodded and said his thanks as he and his companions walked further into the establishment. Sans wondered what they thought about it. Four empty booths attached to the right wall, their wine red cushions reflecting the bar’s warm light. Six tables scattered in the spacious middle, each with three chairs, a stretch of tablecloth and a set of condiments in the middle. The counter at the back and two shelves of alcoholic beverages and cocktail ingredients behind it, a multitude of labels and names that would make any bartender feel powerful and professional. To the left of the counter and standing next to the hallway to the men’s and women’s restroom was an old jukebox left unplugged for the time being. To the right of the counter was the door that led to both the kitchen and the employee lounge at the back.

The three men took one of the tables for their own and Sans seized the opportunity to observe them. There was the old man, his wrinkles and the air about him reminding him of a calmer version of Gerson. The other man had silver hair – natural, from the looks of it – reaching a little past his chin and a poker face that could rival Frisk’s any day of the week. The last one seemed about his age with white hair just like him and his brother, only more like snow in actual shade than the bone white he and Papyrus shared. His left eye was covered by a medical eyepatch and there was something solemn about him, something that made the usually nonchalant man a little uneasy.

“Allow me to introduce ourselves,” came his brother’s booming words, snapping him back to reality. “My name is Papyrus Kotsuzui and that loafer over there is my brother Sans.”

“Yo,” he greeted casually, his grin widening a bit when he saw Papyrus’s eye twitch.

“Right. Moving on. Behind me are – “

“Undyne Watatsumi!” exclaimed the redhead instantly, flashing their guests a fanged grin before pushing the other woman forward. “And this here’s my girl!”

“A-Alphys Malwick,” was the shaky mumble from the blonde. “I’m h-human, but my f-family are long-time a-allies of Toriel-san and Asgore-dono. I-It’s a pleasure t-to meet you, Sir.”

“Please, call me Yoshimura,” the old man said then gestured to the others. “This is Renji Yomo, my trusted right hand, and the young one is Ken Kaneki. Are all of you members of the Underground?”

“Why, yes, Yoshimura-san! We may be young, but we still…”

Sans decided to tune out Papyrus’s speech then and there. He sighed quietly, not wanting to draw attention to himself, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

_‘Oyaji sure is taking his sweet time.’_

A tug on his sleeve made him turn to his left. Frisk had a slight frown on and, from the way she kept looking down at her shoes, seemed uncertain.

“What’s the matter, kid?” he asked in that relaxed tone of his. “You look like someone _ribbed_ ya.”

The young girl gave him a questioning smirk before holding up her hands.

_There’s something different_ , she signed, movements a bit subtle in her form of a whisper, _with Eyepatch._

“Eyepatch?” Sans questioned, lowering his voice. “You mean that guy? Ken Kaneki?”

_Yes. He’s…strange._

Now that really got his attention. Nothing seemed to faze the former assassin these days. Closed eyes and mouth in a straight line, she was a figure of calmness and indifference that most find adorable and some even draw strength from. The only time she had been seen breaking down was when Toriel finally convinced her to abandon her bloodstained knife and that wretched group who had turned her into a killing machine. So when the kid found something odd or uncomfortable to her…

“Strange, huh…” he trailed off then patted her on the head. “Welp, good thing for you, your pal here’s the Hound of the King. I _nose_ a thing or two ‘bout judgin’ someone from afar. Lemme do my thing and find out why he’s strange to ya.”

He always did have a keen sense of smell, more so than most ghouls, and that and his tendency to stay close to his leader earned him his nickname among the members of the Underground. Facing their guests, he took a deep breath and flushed out his senses aside from sight and smell. Exhaling and vision focusing on his target, he pushed back all other scents and odors in the bar. Nose finally ready, he inhaled deeply again.

He stumbled back slightly in shock as his hand flew to his left eye, one he always kept closed for personal reasons. Frisk caught his shoulders, having been the only who seemed to notice.

_What is it?_ She asked, her eyebrows furrowed together in worry. _What did you smell on him?_

“He’s…” he stopped himself and shook his head, steadying his suddenly shaky legs as his hand fell back limply. “I gotta talk to him.”

Frisk only nodded, not stopping him as he approached the occupied table. Sans calmed himself down as much as he could, his hands balled into tight fists. He stopped when he was near the subject of his concerns.

“Oi. You.”

The whole bar went silent when he interrupted whatever it was they were talking about. The kid, Ken Kaneki, blinked and looked up at him.

“Sans!” Papyrus cried out, exasperated. “Do you really have to –“

The younger grew quiet when his brother held out a palm at him. His one open eye never leaving his target, he began to speak.

“Ken Kaneki, right?” he paused to receive the rather uneasy nod. “You a ghoul?”

“Uh, yes,” came the answer, cautious and edgy. “I am.”

“Really? Funny, ‘coz – “

He opened his left eye, revealing the glowing crimson iris and black sclera underneath the lid.

“ – you smell just like me and Papyrus.”


	2. The Hound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for those who are kinda sensitive to blood and stuff.

He could see the kid tense under his gaze, catching the twitch of his left hand out of the corner of his eye. Yoshimura didn’t seem to mind, looking as calm as ever, while Yomo seemed ready to jump in and defend whenever the situation would escalate.

“S-Sans,” he heard his brother call him, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “What are you talking about?”

“Isn’t it pretty obvious, Paps?” he questioned back, looking away briefly to confront Papyrus. “Ken Kaneki here is just like you and me.”

Papyrus gasped again, a hand coming up to cover his right eye where Sans knew his own kakugan would pulse to life under heavy stress. He turned back to the subject in question.

“You’re not a real ghoul,” he said, straight to the point and unwavering. “You were made. Created. You must’ve been some scrawny human brat before someone took you and turned you into a ghoul.”

Kaneki made no move to object. Instead, he took off his eyepatch, unveiling the kakugan underneath. Sans pressed on.

“Now, tell me. Who made you? Who created you?”

Memories flashed before his eyes. Glinting scalpels, white surgical masks, thick red blood. He could hear his own screams in the background, feel the manacles around his wrist and feet as they had once held him in place on a cold metal table.

“I-I don’t know,” came the stuttering answer, “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!” Sans hissed, pressured by the unwanted flashes. “I remember the asshole who did this to me very clearly. I remember every single tool he used to cut into me. I remember all that pain, all that begging for him to _just fucking stop_ but he didn’t listen. Ha! And I was just _six fucking years old_ back then.”

There was some kind of grim satisfaction when Kaneki and the calm Yoshimura paled considerably at his words. There were hands on his shoulders, pulling him back, and he just realized then that he had been dangerously close to the other’s face.

“Sans,” he dimly heard Undyne say from behind him, “calm down. You’re making a scene – “

“Just TELL ME GODDAMMIT!” he screamed, struggling against the hold on him. “TELL ME SO I CAN FUCKING KILL HIM MYSELF IF I HAVE TO!”

“S-Sans! P-Please stop!” Alphys pleaded somewhere to his back right. “You’re m-making Papyrus-kun upset!”

_“Hold still, Experiment S-4N5!”_

_“Someone tie him down! He’s trying to break loose!”_

_“Get me the tranquilizer! I’ll put him under!”_

_“He’s unstable! Hurry!”_

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

He managed to step on Undyne’s foot, taking the short moment in her daze to push her back and away from him. Mouth curled in a snarl, he turned back to his target, only to find a tall, silver-haired man blocking his way.

“Stand back,” Yomo warned, kakugan already active.

Sans merely roared and lunged forward. Suddenly, two long striped appendages held him back by his arms, but he didn’t register who they belonged to. He tugged roughly at them, ignoring the yelp from Frisk who had her bikaku-type kagune out to restrain him.

_“I thought you said the chains would hold him down!”_

_“Is he even tranq’ed? What the fuck is wrong with him?!”_

_“It’s the kakuhou we placed in him! It’s going wild and making him stronger!”_

_“Quick! Before he figures out how to bring out his kagune!”_

He was lost in his past, back in the lab where it all started for him. The people around him were the faceless scientists who had tormented him, experimented on him and the one behind the tall guy was their boss. And that boss was currently staring at him with a challenging smirk.

_“That’s right, S-4N5. Let go of yourself. Unleash your power.”_

With a final screech, Sans willed his kagune out –

“Just what the _actual Hell_ is going on here?”

That one baritone voice brought Sans back to the present, back in the bar with Frisk’s kagune trying to hold him back. He had heard that voice countless times before, different versions of it pushing the past out of his mind. A comforting whisper, a furious roar, a hearty laugh, a warm greeting…he breathed in and drew power and control from that voice, from its owner. Once calm enough, he turned to where the voice came from.

A man stood under the open doorway, dressed in a dark brown trench coat and taller than Papyrus by an inch. His sunset orange hair seemed to have some kind of color gradient, lighter at the roots and darker as it went to the tips, a few streaks molten gold in hue. It also looked like it defied gravity, wavy and its ends sticking out though it appeared that its owner had tried to smooth it down with gel before. And speaking of the owner, he was staring at all of them critically with golden eyes behind semi-framed rectangular glasses, orange eyebrows furrowed above them.

“What the _Hell_ is going on here?” he repeated, his tone stern and his stance firm albeit a little wobbly.

Wait.

A little wobbly…?

And that was when Sans, cleared of his flashback, noted the metallic tang in the air just as the man came in. He focused his sight and noticed that the right sleeve and side of the man’s trench coat was darker and looked soaked. He followed it down to the exposed hand and his eyes widened when he saw crimson drip from it and onto the floorboards.

“Oyaji!” he cried in worry.

The kagune around his arms released their grip as he rushed over to the man, catching him when he finally lost his balance to exhaustion. The thudding of their knees as they hit the floor seemed to spur everyone else into action. Papyrus quickly came over with a chair, Sans and Undyne helping the man onto it as carefully as they could. Frisk shut the door then turned to Alphys and signed frantically.

_Medical kit!_

“H-Hai!” was the immediate response then the bespectacled blonde paused for a moment. “Should I get the supplements, too?”

“Yes,” the man answered, panting heavily.

With a nod, she disappeared through the door to the back.

“Get his coat off,” Papyrus ordered, voice taking a more serious note.

Sans did as he was told. He undid the buttons, gently taking it off the man’s shoulders then throwing it to the floor. What greeted him was a bloody mess. The man’s entire right arm was drenched in crimson and the right sleeve of his once pristine dress shirt had been torn off to serve as a makeshift bandage for his wound. The wound itself seemed like a rift from his shoulder to his elbow, the bandage too soaked to actually cover it up and Sans felt his stomach roil when he thought he saw the white of bone through the rift.

“Oh God,” he heard Undyne gasp, the sound wrong on the usually hard-hitting woman. “Grillby-san, what happened?”

“…ambush,” the man, Grillby, rasped out, closing his eyes at the pain and his sweat, “…too many…”

“And the Hellhounds? What did they do?”

“…helped…we had to…killed them all…”

“And you just had to come back here, heavily wounded and leaking God knows how many pints of blood instead of staying with the Hellhounds who could’ve helped you?” Papyrus pointed out, sounding more worried than accusatory.

They all knew that when caught in a situation where he was severely injured, Grillby would head straight back to his bar. Given his condition as a different kind of ghoul, all the supplies needed to treat his injuries were at home with the people he trusted the most. When he ended up in an ambush or a fight most ghouls of the 22nd Ward were secretly wont to do, they rarely got to the extreme level and with his skill, he’d easily send the offenders flying. In this common scenario, he’d end up with little to no wounds so there was no need for him to bring any form of medical supply along. But now…

Grillby just nodded. He knew that they knew what his plan of action would always be. The Hellhounds, a subgroup of the Underground, may know of his condition, but they have no knowledge on what to do if he ended up with more than just a scratch and few scrapes.

“Oyaji…” Sans found himself muttering as his brother let out a teary hiccup.

“You’re an idiot, Tousan,” Papyrus sobbed quietly, his grip on the backrest of the chair tightening. “You should’ve stayed put and let the Hellhounds call for us instead of pushing yourself further! You shouldn’t even have left and now you’re late for the meeting and badly injured and – “

“…Papyrus, come here.”

The younger instantly knelt down and wrapped his father in a hug, mindful of his wounded arm. Grillby sighed and stroked his bone white hair.

“…I’m gonna be fine, alright?” he reassured his sniffling child, returning the embrace with his good arm. “I came back here because I know you guys will take better care of me than anyone ever will. I doubt this wound will take me down. I’m as tough and great as you are. You said it yourself, remember?”

All he got was a nod as the sobbing died down a bit. Looking up, Grillby met San’s eyes and offered him a comforting smile that was trembling at the corners at the pain he was obviously fighting.

_‘There you go again, Oyaji. Comforting us when you’re the one in need of it. I wanna hate ya sometimes for that.’_

His older son smiled back shakily.

-|||-

Alphys came back in at that moment, making her way to the bunch huddled by the door. She brought with her a rather large white box, two bags of blood and a pill bottle. Sans and Undyne moved out of her way as she came near. Papyrus let go of his injured father reluctantly with a sniff.

“Is anything broken, Grillby-san?” she asked professionally, detaching herself as she prepared for work.

The man shook his head. The bespectacled blonde opened the medical kit and brought out a roll of bandage, some thread, a stitching hook, a small pair of scissors and a bottle of disinfectant.

“Papyrus-kun, please lead our guests to the lounge. Your father must be treated at once,” she said, handing the hook over. “And I left the water heater on. Once it’s done, sterilize the hook in a bowl and bring it back here. Also, please bring a glass of cool water with you.”

“Right away, Doc,” Papyrus responded as he got back up, taking the hook, wiping away his tears and forcing on a smile. “I apologize, my dear guests, but it seems that Grillby requires medical attention! Please follow me to the employee’s lounge so that he may recover quietly!”

He was quick in ushering the three men out of the main room, questions from them following him as they went. Alphys proceeded to cut the makeshift bandage with her scissors, peeling off the flimsy strips of red-soaked cloth and letting them fall to the floor.

“Undyne, could you be a darling and grab a table? I can’t work properly like this.”

The taller woman said nothing as she hefted a table over her head and set it beside them, sweeping the condiments out of the way. Carefully, the young medic guided Grillby’s arm onto the piece of furniture, ignoring his hissing as the ripped flesh was jostled slightly. Once on the flat surface, she reached for the disinfectant.

“Alright. Here’s the most painful part. Grillby-san, I will disinfect this wound now. You may be a ghoul, but we can’t take any risks.”

“…just get it over with,” came the reply through gritted teeth.

“It’ll be quick. Frisk-chan, go and help Papyrus. Undyne. Sans.”

The other two needed no prompting as they held their leader down. Alphys barely registered the sound of the door to back swinging as the youngest among them made her exit, already putting on surgical gloves and opening the bottle of disinfectant. Pouring a hefty amount of the clear liquid in one covered hand, she paused to take a deep breath.

“Here we go,” she whispered.

And with no warning, she smothered the wound with disinfectant. She could tell that Grillby’s golden eyes had widened in size as the pain sunk in and burned his nerves and she gave him credit when he did his best not to thrash about. He was shivering badly though, the hand of his injured arm practically spasming and ripping holes in the table cloth whenever he gripped too hard. His teeth were gnashing, creaking at the force his jaw was set in and Alphys wished she had given him something to bite on earlier. A low whine escaped his throat as he tucked his head closer to his chest, his left foot slamming down on the floor once, twice, thrice.

After dabbing a bit more of the disinfectant, the young medic cleaned the injured area with a towel. It was more gruesome now that the blood had been wiped off, the entire upper arm torn open down to the bone and still leaking liquid crimson sluggishly. She heard her partner gag at the sight and she wondered if she should tell them that the perpetrator who had inflicted this would most likely have a rinkaku-type kagune to cause this much damage, the same RC type Undyne was herself.

“You’re doing fine, Oyaji,” Sans murmured comfortingly, wiping away the sweat on his father’s face with another towel. “Bet you showed the dickhead who did this who the real _hot_ stuff is, huh?”

Grillby just went on panting, but his lips curled up a little at his son’s pun.

“Doc!” Papyrus yelled, bursting through the back door with a bowl in his hand and Frisk hot on his heels. “Here are the hook and water!”

“Perfect. Thank you, Papyrus-kun, Frisk-chan. But I have one more request. Please set up the IV line so we can attach Grillby-san to the blood bag while I stitch his wound. It’s safe to assume that he must have lost quite the amount of blood on his way here.”

“…had to…soak the coat…to not leave a trail,” said patient threw in his fifty cents.

“We’d be glad to help, Doc! Tousan, please do your best to not squirm about! Doctor Alphys will patch you up in no time if you cooperate!”

The bespectacled blushed heavily, realizing just now that this was her first time attending to the King of the Underground without her parents to guide her, especially since she was not an actual doctor yet. She heard Grillby chuckle lightly, his panting reduced.

“Sure thing, kiddo…just don’t fluster the doctor too much. I don’t think she can relax with that much _heat_ to take.”

“Gaaah! You hang around Niisan too much!”

“Well duh, bro. I work and live here. Besides, I think it runs in the family. About time for you to _ember_ ace it, ne, Paps?”

“NIISAN!! OH MY GOSH!!”

The wordplay lightened the atmosphere in the bar and for that, Alphys was thankful. She took the hook from the bowl that had been set on the table, the water in it no longer too scalding, and looped the thread through the hole in its dull end.

“Okay, guys,” she breathed out, gripping the hook close to the skin next to the wound. “I need to concentrate so enough of your _pun_ sense.”

“Nice one, Alph.”

“No! Not you, too, Doc! Niisan, whyyyyy?!”

“Thanks, Sans. But seriously. Concentration.”

She turned to her patient, her serious face hiding her inner nervousness.

“Are you ready, Grillby-san?” she asked, kicking the tremble out of her voice for the time being. “My parents aren’t here to actually guide me and all – “

“I’ll know you’ll do your best, Alphys,” Grillby encouraged her with a calm smile. “I trust you and your expertise.”

His words gave her strength and filled her with determination. Nodding firmly and taking hold of his right forearm, she paused for a quick breather then began her work. Her leader inhaled sharply when the hook pierced his skin, but otherwise stayed still. The pain from the disinfectant must have numbed the nerves in his arm enough that the hook was probably just like a bug bite to him. Either that or he must have been already used to someone stitching his wounds together while he sat there, exhausted yet awake. It was quite possible, given his infamous past as a frontline fighter.

_‘In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other…’_

“Papyrus-kun, secure the IV line now,” she mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear, distant as her doe brown eyes focused on her handiwork.

_‘In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other…’_

She was vaguely aware of Papyrus coming near. He had been trained by her a while ago on what to do whenever she needed an extra pair of hands in her job. He took his father’s other arm gently and rubbed the inner wrist with a cotton ball drenched in more disinfectant. He then grabbed the needle end of the IV line, the other end already attached to a bag of blood, and, after searching for a vein nearest to the surface, stabbed it in. The only reaction Grillby gave that was a twitch of his left eye.

_‘In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other…’_

“Sorry, Tousan.”

“Don’t, Papyrus. You were just doing as you were told and that is to help both me and the good doctor. Thank you.”

_‘In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other…’_

Her assistant was beaming a little as he secured the needle to the wrist with medical tape. He then took the blood bag and held it high, approximately level with his head, to let the flow start. He placed his free hand in his father’s to squeeze it in comfort.

_‘In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other…’_

The others waited with bated breath as she sewed muscle and skin together as best as she could. The entire process was just a cycle, a kind of rinse-and-repeat that her fingers deftly executed. She didn’t put much thought into it, just letting the mantra and muscle memory steer her. The entire bar was silent in respect for her concentration.

_‘In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other. In one end, out the other…’_

It seemed like hours had passed when she finished the deed. Setting the hook down, she eyed the result. A few of the thirty-eight stitches were not as aligned as she had wanted them to be, but her handiwork looked good overall. The wound had been sewn closed nicely, securely and she was sure it would help speed up her patient’s usually slower-than-ghoul-normal regeneration. Satisfied, she grabbed the scissors again and cut the thread, everyone releasing the breath they have been holding in as she did so.

“God,” was all she said as she took a chair and practically slumped in it.

“Just sit back, Doc! Leave the bandages to me!” Papyrus volunteered as he handed the blood bag to his brother and reached for the roll.

“Thanks, Papyrus-kun. Use the scissors to cut the rest of his shirt off. I’m sorry, Grillby-san, but that dress shirt of yours can no longer be saved.”

“It’s alright. I still have plenty more left. I can afford to lose one,” her leader stated, smiling at her again. “Thank you, Alphys. I appreciate your help very much. You will become an excellent doctor in the future.”

Her blush returned. As well as her stutter.

“A-Ah well, it’s m-my duty as a resident d-doctor of the Underground. I’m j-just doing w-what I should a-and – oh! Y-Your RC supplements! How long d-did you use your k-kagune, Grillby-san?”

“…approximately ten minutes. How many should I take?”

“G-Get two capsules. T-take another one l-later when you st-still feel weak. Where d-did I put that b-bottle? I swear I-I brought it with me – “

“Here it is,” Undyne spoke up as she set the amber-colored pill bottle on the table, next to the bowl. “You gave it to me when you came in. I doubt you remember it though ‘cause you were in Serious Doctor Mode, Alphy-chan.”

She blushed again, both at her forgetfulness and at her partner’s nickname for her.

“Th-Thanks, Undyne. W-Where will I be without you?”

The redhead grinned and strode over to her, leaning down to wrap her strong arms around her.

“Don’t know, don’t care. What matters is now and being in it with you.”

Alphys smiled, face redder than ever. Four years into their relationship and she still found herself blushing like a virgin.

“Dear Lord God. Get a room, you two,” Sans butted in, interrupting their moment. “Your sweetness is giving me cavities.”

“You’re just jealous you’re still single, lazybones,” Undyne huffed, not moving from her place.

“Single and ready to mingle, _sugar_. Ain’t my fault the ladies can’t take my _candy_ dness.”

“Bet it left a sour taste in their mouths.”

“Oh please, my one-liners are absolute _jawbreakers_. And so are my kisses.”

Papyrus was probably internally fuming at all the puns being thrown about, if his scrunched up expression was anything to go by as he diligently worked the bandages around his father’s stitched arm. Grillby just watched the exchange in silent amusement, taking his eyes off the scene so he could pop two small capsules of what looked like hardened red jelly into his mouth. Frisk came forth and offered him the glass of water, which he took with a nod of thanks. He tipped the glass over his mouth and swallowed the cool water that came pouring down, along with the jelly capsules that he needed to sustain himself.

Setting the empty glass on the table, he leaned forward so that his son could secure the bandages around his chest. Alphys was dimly aware that she was staring at his bare torso. The taut musculature of it had once made her flush when she was younger, not daring to admit aloud that the then would-be King indeed had a fitting figure. Now, she examined it with a critical eye, taking into account the numerous scars marring the slight tan of his skin. She wondered just how many of them her parents had actually treated before when they had been fresh wounds.

“There. All done, Tousan!” her assistant’s boom snapped her out of her daze.

“Thank you, Papyrus,” came Grillby’s kind words as he tried to flex his bandaged arm, wincing as he did so. “Looks like I’ll be sitting in tonight. Someone will have to man the bar in my absence, especially with today being a Saturday…”

“I’ll do it, Oyaji,” Sans said, his usual grin plastered on his face. “I picked up a few tricks watchin’ ya do your thing. ‘Cept for the Blazin’ Blue. Everybody knows it’s _your_ signature cocktail.”

“You’ll have to inform the regulars then. Where are the guests?”

Everyone froze at his question. They all knew where this was going.

“Grillby-san, I think you should rest,” it was Undyne who stole the stalemate, unwrapping her arms from her partner and standing straight, “you’ve had a long day so far and you need to heal – “

“I can already feel the regeneration taking place, thanks to the supplements,” their leader cut her statement short then sighed. “Look, guys. These people are from a group that has been an ally with the Underground since its recuperating period. An ally we haven’t heard from in years. They have come here to rekindle the alliance between their group and ours, as well as to discuss something with me. As King of the Underground, it is my duty to attend this meeting.”

It was also a well-known fact that Grillby always takes his job seriously. His bartending was not something he had studied for or learned from an expert, but something he had actually focused on post-Tokyo Revolution, teaching himself what to do and when to add in some flair. Ever since he had been crowned as the Underground’s newest head two years ago, he was quick to respond to any form of distress call from his subordinates, coming to their aid whenever he could, and did his best on solving territorial disputes with smaller ghoul gangs without unnecessary bloodshed. The bar itself had served as the rendezvous for these particular agreements, most ending peacefully and with new allies for the Underground while some with Grillby having to boot the offenders out of the bar and the 22nd Ward himself.

“And look at where your last discussion landed ya,” Sans reminded, eyeing his father’s bandaged arm.

“That was just bad timing on my part,” Grillby dismissed, taking off his glasses to rub at the space between his eyes. “Besides, I’ll have Undyne and Frisk with me in case things turn for the worse.”

“Eh? What about – “

“You? You’re going upstairs, Sans, with Alphys. The young doctor needs a good rest after tending to a wound that needed thirty-eight stitches.”

Said bespectacled blonde couldn’t help but feel grateful for the break given to her. Her right hand was still trembling from having to hold the hook in such manner for quite some time and being the bar’s resident medic was just stressful overall.

Sans, on the other hand, looked very peeved. He was always like this when his father requested him to stay separate from him, especially if there were people he didn’t know within the vicinity. He saw himself as the King’s right hand, his faithful Hound, and found it necessary to stick by Grillby’s side in situations like this one. That, and he was extremely protective of his family.

“Sans,” Grillby started, his signature calm back in place, “I know a flashback when I see one. And the scene I walked into when I came back here was definitely a flashback.”

At that, the determined fire in Sans’s mismatched eyes – right silvery-gray, left electric blue, both fascinating to look at for Alphys – died down and his sharp-edged grin shrunk into a rather bitter smile.

“……guess you caught me, Oyaji,” he admitted, looking away.

His father sighed again. Gently prying his left hand from Papyrus’s grip, he reached out and ruffled his older son’s bone white hair.

“Hey, kid,” he coaxed, his hand coming to rest on the back of San’s neck and squeezing it softly. “I just don’t want you forcing yourself to do something you’re uncomfortable with. If the guests caused you so much discomfort that it threw you into a flashback, it’s best if you stay away until you’ve collected your cool. I promise I’ll be safe without you for a while.”

It was amazing to watch Sans, so full of sarcasm and puns and laziness and biting remarks, change instantly into something else at his father’s voice. His shoulders, tensed in self-defense, relaxed as he stared back into his father’s golden eyes. His bitter smile turned truer, more genuine, even stretching wider when the hand on his nape went to ruffle his hair again.

“…you promise?” he asked, sounding like a little child fearing the worst for his parent.

But…he was, wasn’t he?

“I promise,” Grillby replied, patting his son’s shoulder. “Papyrus, go and get our guests. Then you can go upstairs. I’m pretty sure the good doctor and your brother would like some comfort food right now. How about spaghetti?”

“Wowie, Tousan! That’s a great suggestion!” Papyrus all but exclaimed. “Just don’t stress yourself too much, alright? I’m gonna make enough of my special spaghetti for all of us to enjoy!”

His father chuckled, reaching up to ruffle his youngest’s own bone white locks as well.

“Of course, kiddo. I’m looking forward to it. Sans, Alphys, you can take your leave now. The both of you rest well.”

“Will do, Oyaji.”

“Hai, Grillby-san. Th-Thanks for the break.”

Sans handed over the blood bag to Undyne, telling her to hold it higher so that the flow wouldn’t be disrupted. He then grabbed the repacked medical kit and the other blood bag while Alphys handled the pill bottle and the bowl with the hook already soaking in the blood-tinted water. She blushed again when Undyne leaned in to peck her on the cheek.

“Hey, Paps. You gotta hurry and _ketchup_ ‘coz Alph and I are starvin’,” Sans informed as the three of them headed for the back door.

“If it’s to shut you and your lame puns up then I will!” his younger brother declared with much resolve, as if he were a knight declaring to fight the dragon.

“A-Ano, Papyrus-kun. Not t-too loud,” the bespectacled blonde reminded then stopped as they got to the doorway to turn back and bow to her leader. “Thank you a-again, Grillby-san. P-Please rest as m-much as you c-can after your meeting.”

She straightened back up as the door swung behind them, not hearing the chuckle that echoed softly throughout the bar.

“That went well,” Grillby sighed, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair and moving his bandaged arm from the table onto his lap. “Alright, Undyne, Frisk. You two know what to do. But try to relax as well.”

The redhead and the brunette nodded, taking either side of him and filled with determination. The both of them where among the Underground’s best fighters and they were ready to defend their King when the situation would go awry. Even if the other party claimed to be long-time allies of their group.

The door swung open again and the three guests came in.

-|||-

It had been an hour and a half since they went into the bar. An hour and ten minutes since they had been ushered into the employee’s lounge.

When Kaneki got nervous, he usually resulted in going over the time. He’d be rubbing at his chin, trying to lure himself into other thoughts, then that’d all be ruined when he glanced down at his watch or looked up at the clock on the wall. It was a habit he had developed as a child, back when he was so lonely that all he could do was busy himself with the time, seconds ticking by in his head.

Then he had Hide. And Touka. And everyone else at Anteiku.

He glanced around, hoping that another survey of his surroundings would distract him enough. The employee’s lounge was small, just a little bigger than his own room back at the café’s residence floor. The walls were a calming blue, the ceiling white with a mini chandelier hanging down and the floor carpeted with a plain gray rug. The orange couch he and Yoshimura were currently sitting on was set up against the left wall. At the end of the room below the air conditioner were two bookshelves and in front of them was a regular table with two chairs. For the time being, Yomo had pulled up one of the chairs and sat at the other end of another table, this one in front of the couch. This table seemed special, having a two-toned grid carved on its flat surface that actually served as a board for some games like chess or checkers. Yomo and Yoshimura were currently engrossed in the former after their host Papyrus showed them that the drawers under the tabletop housed the chess pieces. The old man played white while his silent right hand played black.

But overall, the small room didn’t look like it was used often. It was too clean, too empty. The couch was too firm, a sign that it hadn’t been sat on for a while until now. There was dust on the rows of books the shelves provided a home to, meaning that the poor hardbounds weren’t as read as often and at that, the artificial ghoul felt pity. Even the chess pieces stationed on the tabletop looked new, unworn by fingertips and repeated gliding across the carved chessboard.

Kaneki sat back and sighed, trying to relax. But then he’d remember the way Papyrus’s brother, Sans, had looked at him earlier. Like he was the bane of the universe, the scum of the earth. Sure, it seemed like the guy wasn’t himself, probably reliving a traumatic experience like Kaneki did every night when he went to sleep. A traumatic experience Kaneki must’ve triggered in some way, directly or indirectly. A hand went up to cover his left eye.

He still couldn’t believe there were others like him. _Made_ like him.

One hour and thirty-five. One hour and fifteen.

Then there was a knock on the door.

He straightened his back as Papyrus peered in, the sheepish smile on his lips growing when he laid his silvery-gray eyes on them.

“Oh wow! You’re winning, Yoshimura-san!” he cheered before clearing his throat in an attempt to sound and appear serious. “But I apologize. I must interrupt your game to tell you that Grillby requires your presence.”

The Anteiku manager’s fingers paused in midair, just when he was about to move his knight to declare the checkmate.

“Oh? How does the King fare?” he asked, leaning away from the game. “I heard he was quite injured.”

It looked like he wasn’t about to tell their host that they had been startled by what sounded like three stomps on the floor from outside the door earlier.

Papyrus seemed to falter, thinking of an appropriate answer for the question.

“I-Indeed he was. But with some rest and medication, he will be healed in no time! He’s really tough and strong. I doubt something like a scratch on the arm would bring him down!”

Just a scratch? If the amount of blood on the coat on the bar floor had been anything to go by, one can easily tell that the wound was fatal, even on a ghoul. And the way the white-haired man had broken down earlier…Kaneki could plainly see that Papyrus was the resident ray of sunshine in the bar and it had unnerved him to watch him sob and take comfort in a bleeding man.

“Ah. That is good news,” Yoshimura informed though it was clear to the ones who knew him that he doubted that answer as well. “Very well, then. We shall go see him. Thank you, Papyrus-kun, for being a wonderful host.”

“You’re welcome, Sir! I’m just happy to do my job. Please leave the pieces on the table. I’ll clean them up for you!”

He sounded too happy, forced. Like he wanted something, probably the meeting, over and done with straight away. There was something else that he had wanted to say but stopped himself from doing so, making Kaneki wonder why and what it actually was.

The three of them got off their seats, Yoshimura taking his coat and hat from where he had hung them over the arm of the couch. Papyrus opened the door for them, smiling a little more genuinely this time. He waved at them as they stepped out of the lounge and into the hallway.

Kaneki looked to the right where a metal staircase spiraled nearby around a metal and into a hole on the second floor. He could hear voices from upstairs and could only guess that the upper levels were the living space, just like in Anteiku. He turned to the left, the hallway extending farther before branching left yet again. He’d bet his life savings that the kitchen was that way, seeing as he was in a bar that also catered to its patron’s hungry stomachs. Overhead, the light flickered ominously and he was surprised at the urge to change the bulb himself.

_‘One hour and forty. One hour and twenty.’_

“Are you ready, Kaneki-kun?” his former boss’s query had him pushing the time check out of his mind. “They’re probably on the defensive since their leader has returned to them injured and unwell so try to relax and not move so suddenly. After all, wouldn’t you also be tensed when your father figure had come home wounded?”

Kaneki just nodded, preparing himself. Yomo also nodded as he pushed the door in front of them open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yessssss. Grillby's heeeeeeere. Hwehwehwehwehwehwehwehwe~
> 
> Ahem. Yes, Grillby is the current King of the Underground. It was pretty obvious in the last chapter. LOL.
> 
> And as said in the previous chapter, Grillby is a Jack. I don't think the manga has mentioned anything about a ghoul with no true RC type or at least has an undefined type of kagune so here is my take on it. The concept of Jacks belong to me. Unless there's already something like this in the manga that I'm not aware of. LOLOL. If there is, feel free to tell me anytime.
> 
> My idea on Jacks is that while battle-wise they are formidable and unpredictable opponents, they really suck at other stuff outside of that. Stuff like regeneration, stamina and endurance to pain in general. Instead of a regular kakuhou in a designated spot on their backs, Jacks have something like an entire system resembling a circulatory system in their backs, except that what circulates are actually RC cells instead of blood cells. This way, they can form their kagune at any of the designated spots for regular ghouls, taking on the specific characteristics. Given their unique RC cell storage system, Jacks can form different kinds of kagune at any given time, sometimes leading to them being mistaken as chimera ghouls by those who hunt them.
> 
> But as mentioned above, Jacks tend to sacrifice regeneration, stamina and endurance to pain for this ability. Because of their ability to unleash any kind of kagune they please, they have the tendency to use up more RC cells than regular ghouls. RC cell draining is the common enemy of all Jacks and can be countered by excessive eating or consumption of pure RC cells in the form of jelly-like supplements. When their RC supply is not replenished immediately, Jacks will have a significantly lower performance in anything they do and, when pushed further, can die.
> 
> More notes on Jacks in the future~


	3. The King

When they came back into the main room, Kaneki released the breath he had been unconsciously holding in when he saw that some of the bar’s attendants were gone, probably to the second floor where he heard the voices. Frisk and the scarlet-haired woman remained while the blonde with glasses and, to his silent relief, Sans were nowhere in sight.

“My esteemed guests, I apologize for the wait. Please take your seats.”

His lead gray eyes shifted to the man on the chair between the two females. He was leaning back in his seat with his legs crossed, his left arm over the backrest while his right – and freshly bandaged – one was on his lap. His torso was unclothed save for the bandages streaking from his right shoulder to his left armpit, exposing a multitude of scars on his slightly tanned skin and ‘ _isn’t that weird since ghouls should be able to regenerate skin tissue perfectly most of the time and not leave scars on their bodies?’_ His sunset orange hair with its light-to-dark gradient and golden streaks was more disheveled than when he had first entered the scene, glistening with sweat, and his golden eyes had a faint haze in them, most likely from the pain his treated wound was causing him. His glasses were on a table he sat not far from, just an inch from Frisk’s right, and the artificial ghoul did not fail to see the fresh splatters of blood on the pale yellow tablecloth.

Casting his observations aside, Kaneki followed his companions’ lead and took a chair, setting it in front of the man and taking his former boss’ left.

“Once again, I apologize for wasting your time,” the man repeated, the calm in his voice a stark contrast to his fiery mane. “Some of my subordinates had called me in earlier, needing my aid in resolving a territorial dispute with a rival gang. It ended up with all of said gang terminated because of the ambush they had planted.”

“I understand your dilemma,” Yoshimura sympathized, relaxing in his seat. “It had been a problem of mine as well, back when my group was still new. I do hope you are feeling well, Gilbert-san.”

The man blinked and Kaneki could feel the tension in the air climb ever so slightly. With a sigh, the King of the Underground reached into the pocket of his pants with his left hand and brought out a pack of cigarettes. He took one stick, placed it between his lips and was about to reach into his pocket again when the scarlet-haired woman on his left bent down and lit the stick for him with a lighter of her own. She smiled sheepishly when he sent her a questioning look and straightened back up when she was done.

“…thank you for your concern. However, I no longer go by that name, Yoshimura-san,” he informed, taking a drag of the cancer stick and puffing out a cloud. “It is something I have abandoned along with my bloodstained past. You have done something like it as well, yes? I go by ‘Grillby’ nowadays.”

“Ah yes. That is what your attendants here call you. I had thought that it was just the name of your establishment. It is a...rather uncommon name to take, if I may say.”

“It is, isn’t it? It came from when I started this place. Aside from a bar, it also serves as a restaurant. The first meals I had on the menu were all ‘grilled’ since I couldn’t afford a stove or a deep fryer back then. The customers noticed this and I didn’t actually object when they called me by the name. It stuck fast.”

“Quite an amusing origin story. It is good to see that there was something you could do after the Tokyo Revolution.”

“Mmhm. It was hard at first, but I really like helping people. Besides, cooking and bartending calms me down.”

Grillby leaned forward, uncrossing his legs and placing his forearms on his thighs to brace himself.

“And who are these two with you? I believe you’ve already met Undyne and Frisk. Mind if you could introduce your friends to me?”

“But of course. The one on my right is Renji Yomo. He is a valuable member of Anteiku and my right hand.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Grillby-dono,” Yomo stated with a bow of his head.

“Drop that honorific, my good man. King of the Underground is merely a title, not an actual status. And it’s also a pleasure to meet you. And what about this young man here, Yoshimura-san?”

Kaneki tensed at that, feeling the King’s golden eyes on him. The old man came to his rescue.

“This is Ken Kaneki. He is the one I’ve talked to you about on the phone a few days ago.”

“Ah. I see.”

Frisk came nearer and signed something to her leader, her hands rapid and thorough in their movement. Taking the cigarette from his lips, Grillby nodded and turned back to his guests.

“Frisk here has notified me of what happened earlier,” he said, resting his face in his left hand, the one holding his smoke. “I do apologize for the way Sans had acted. The topic of artificial ghouls is a very traumatizing one for him. I’m afraid that even now, it can trigger a flashback and bring his darker side into action.”

“So that was what happened,” Yoshimura hummed, rubbing his chin in thought. “No one got hurt, Grillby-san. There is no need for an apology. However, I am…quite unnerved about what your subordinate has said. Something that has to do with someone…experimenting on him.”

“Really? What did he – “

It was Undyne’s turn to interrupt, whispering something into the man’s ear. Grillby’s eyes widened and he straightened in his chair when she was finished.

“He said that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The redhead nodded grimly.

“Huh.”

He paused to take a longer drag of nicotine, letting a couple foreign words, probably curses, escape his mouth the same time he exhaled smoke.

“…it pains me to say that what he said was true,” he began with a shake of his head. “He had been experimented on at a very young age. He had been human once, but was then turned into a ghoul without his consent. Same goes with his brother. I cannot share with you the bigger pieces of the puzzle, but you should know at least this.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes glinting dangerously.

“The man responsible for their pain is long dead. I made sure of it myself.”

“That is…good to hear. Tell me, Grillby-san. How did those two come to live with you? I can tell that they are very close to you and that you mean a lot to them.”

Just like that, the predatory air around the King vanished. He scratched his jaw slowly.

“Sans and Papyrus? They escaped the facility that held them and wandered the streets. Found them rolling around in my trash cans and decided to help them. That was eleven years ago. Helped them get out of their shells, fed them, made them wear clean clothes, gave them a roof over their heads…in short, I took them in as my own kids. Though it did take them a while to finally acknowledge me as someone more than a guardian.”

“You became their father,” the Anteiku manager supplied with a smile, “and from how loyal and caring your sons are toward you, one can easily deduce that you have been nothing but good to them. I can see them go great lengths for your health and happiness.”

Papyrus’s barely hidden impatience earlier made sense now. He had wanted the meeting adjourned as quickly as possible so that his injured father could rest.

“Geez, Yoshimura-san. I had my rough days, too, you know.”

“And I take it you were the one who taught and trained them on what ghouls like you and me do?”

“Of course. I – “

“Grillby-san’s the best fighter in the entire Underground!” Undyne butted in enthusiastically, chest bursting with pride and her one sea green eye gleaming. “Gerson-jiisan and Asgore-sama may have been veterans, but I haven’t seen anyone fight like Grillby-san does!”

_It’s like he’s dancing!_ Frisk joined in though only her two companions could understand her. _He doesn’t stay in one place. He’s always moving about, dodging and attacking at the same time. It’s a good thing Mom and Asgore interrupted our fight back then. If it had continued, I would’ve been dead!_

“He taught Sans how to move faster than he already is! And Papyrus knows how to end a fight without using his kagune because of him! Oh, and don’t forget their Blasters!”

_Oh yeah! I haven’t seen Sans focus so much on that one devastating shot –_

“Undyne, Frisk, thank you for your words of praise, but I’m afraid you’re interrupting the meeting,” Grillby cut them short, looking a little flustered as he cleared his throat. “I see where you are going, Yoshimura-san.”

“You really are sharp. Fitting for the King of the Underground,” Yoshimura commended. “Then I believe you’ll take Kaneki-kun here as your student?”

His statement silenced the entire bar. The subject of the matter looked down, finding the floorboards interesting as he felt stares on him.

“As implied earlier, Kaneki-kun is an artificial ghoul,” his former boss continued, making him grow more self-conscious. “It has been four months since he first came to Anteiku and he has made much progress. In the past incident in the 11th Ward, he had been kidnapped, only to escape on his own shortly. He even managed to fend himself from a member of the Aogiri Tree.”

The memories came back to haunt him. He took a deep breath, trying to push the screams and all that blood out of his mind. He could his feel his left eye burn as it changed from white and lead gray to black and crimson.

“Ken-kun?” someone called and he instantly recognized who it was.

“H-Hai, Grillby-dono?”

“Kid, you’re as bad as your silent friend there. I’m going to ask you a few questions. Is that fine with you?”

He nodded, unable to bring himself to look up.

“Alright. Do you remember who turned you into a ghoul?”

_“Doctor, he’s destabilizing!”_

_“Put that organ in him now!”_

“N-No.”

“Do you remember what happened before you became a ghoul?”

_“Aaah, Kaneki-kun~ You taste so delicious~!”_

“…yes.”

“Where is your kakugan? Left or right?”

_“A one-eyed ghoul!”_

_“Oh! How exotic!”_

“L-Left.”

“You killed Yamori, didn’t you?”

_“Gahahahaha! Kaneki-kuuuun!”_

He jumped in his seat when there was a hand on his shoulder. Whipping his head back up, his mismatched eyes met golden ones.

“Breathe,” a baritone voice floated into his ears, not quite a command but not quite a request either.

He did as he was told and the memories sunk back into his subconscious, waiting and ready for when he next decided to rest. Rooted back to the present, he refocused his gaze and blushed when he realized who he was looking at.

“G-Grillby-do – “

“Seriously, kid. I prefer you call me Grillby- _san_. I already have those Hellhounds using that unnecessary honorific on me. Don’t want someone so young joining their fad.”

The King of the Underground rose from where he was kneeling in front of the artificial ghoul. After cracking his neck, he walked to the area behind his guests and settled behind the counter.

“Grillby-san,” Undyne called out sternly, the guests turning around in their seats to watch. “Your arm – “

“I know, I know,” her leader waved off as he brought a few bottles from the shelves to the counter. “I’m ambidextrous, remember? I can make a drink with one hand as long as it’s easy. And the one I have in mind definitely is.”

Feeling her glare on him, he sent her a slight smirk, the cigarette bouncing between his lips.

“Not convinced? Alright then. For every time my right hand touches any of the bottles, the mixer and the glass, you’ll get to solve that many territorial disputes yourself.”

There was a sparkle in her sea green eye and he knew he had succeeded.

“Deal,” she instantly decided.

“Good. Frisk, be the judge here. Count the times my right hand touches anything save for my side and the counter. Got it?”

The brunette rushed over and claimed a barstool, nodding as she held up her closed hands to indicate a counting board.

Nodding back, Grillby grabbed a cocktail mixer and opened it. He put in some ice then poured in his choices by specific amounts. The process was rather slow, considering that he was only using one hand. Once he was done, he put the lid back on as tightly as it could go and gripped the mixer firmly before flinging it into the air once, twice, thrice. When it landed back in his open palm, he shook it thoroughly, even making it spin in his fingers. He threw it again and it landed on the back of his hand. A flick of his wrist and the mixer was rolling down his inclined arm and fell off his elbow. He kicked it back up in the air just in time and caught it, flipping the lid off with his thumb. At the resounding pop, he smiled and poured the finished cocktail into a martini glass. He looked up from his work when he heard clapping.

“Bravo, Grillby-san,” Yoshimura praised with another clap. “I envy your skill.”

“It’s nothing,” the King just said, flustering lightly again then turned to the silent brunette. “How many violations, Frisk?”

Frisk grinned widely as she thrust her still closed fists in the air, showing that no violations were committed. Grillby couldn’t help but smirk at the redhead standing by his chair.

“See? Easy.”

“Fine. You win,” Undyne grumbled, internally kicking herself for thinking otherwise.

Smirk dimming into a small smile, he grabbed the glass and walked back to the front. Stopping in front of a certain person, he offered the drink to him.

“Here you go, Ken-kun. It’s on the house.”

Kaneki blinked at him. Blush returning, he took the glass and looked into the swirling pool of pale red inside.

“Thank you,” he muttered shyly.

“You’re welcome. It’s mostly blood and has just the right alcoholic content to be ghoul-friendly so yes, it’s safe for you to drink.”

The artificial ghoul nodded slowly. He gave the cocktail one more look before bringing the glass to his lips. He took a tentative sip.

_‘What should – oh…wow.’_

It took a couple of seconds before the taste settled in slowly, deliberately. It was subtle, with a few soft kicks from the alcohol, and it seemed to branch out and spread throughout his mouth. It caressed his gums in feather light touches, tickled the roof of his mouth gently, stretched over the length of his tongue like a warm blanket. It made him remember of that night when Yoshimura ushered him into Anteiku and made him coffee, showed him that the door was always open when he needed someone to run to and a place to crash. It made him remember the first time he met his best friend, when he was just a lonely boy walking back to his home. He had his eyes to the ground so he ended up bumping into someone. He remembered fear of being hit, of being bullied yet again, of being stomped on and laughed at. But all he got when he looked up was a grin and an inviting hand, outstretched and ready to help him back up.

_“Hey! You know that there are comfier places to sit on than the sidewalk, right?”_

This drink…it reminded him that he always had someone to turn to. That in the dark, he’d always end up bumping into someone that’d help him back on his feet and walk with him to the light at the end of the tunnel. He felt warm and tingly and secure and at peace, like he was in somebody’s embrace, his face pushed into their chest so that he wouldn’t see the horrors of the world and the horrors wouldn’t see him. He remembered…

He remembered security, finding hope in someone who would never leave him for anything.

“How is it, Ken-kun?”

He opened his eyes to the voice, not even remembering when he had closed them in the first place. He saw Yoshimura looking at him in concern and so were Yomo and Undyne and probably even Frisk, but he strangely wasn’t covering himself up in self-consciousness. His cheeks were wet with tears shed unconsciously and he could care less. He peered into the glass again and found two lead gray orbs staring back at him.

“There are…”

He looked up and met the golden eyes of the King who was back on his chair with a small smile on his lips. He smiled back.

“…no words to describe how wonderful it made me feel. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it, kid,” Grillby chuckled, taking another drag from his smoke.

“May I…ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

Kaneki paused to claim his cocktail in a second sip, humming when the taste hit him again.

“A drink like this…how do you make one? It triggers so many emotions in me, so many memories. Yet it also suppresses the negative ones. I didn’t know that a single beverage has the power to do so.”

“…it is with a skill bartenders are required to have. But since the professional ones stick to the more well-known and difficult to make cocktails, they tend to dismiss this skill in favor of flair.”

Grillby leaned forward and Kaneki followed his lead, feeling as if they were about to share a secret of unexplainable magnitude.

“The bar is a place where words unspoken are released from their cages,” the elder man began softly, as if telling a story. “They roam around the place, jump into the ears of the open and willing then they fade once the last drop of the last drink vanishes down someone’s throat. Here, secrets are unleashed like epics and gossip like fairy tales. Here, a heavy heart can set down its burden then leave without noticing that its burden had become lighter. The bar does not receive, but takes what is not needed. In return, it gives security and a level of intimacy that one can find in the best of listeners and even lovers.”

He sighed as he tapped his cigarette free of its ashes, the stick almost spent.

“As a bartender and the keeper of this place, I seek the unspoken and take the unneeded. I listen to my patrons, let them speak and drink all they want until all that leaves their mouths are slurs and gibberish. I watch the way they move, the way their faces contort with emotions they have bottled up for a while. And with these observations, I make the cocktails they don’t want, but need. I take my best liquors and mix them together with their words and their burden in mind, hoping that with the drink I have prepared, I can let them know that my bar is a place they can go to when homes no longer feel like they should. That my bar is where they can unravel and be who they are behind the curtain.”

The artificial ghoul frowned at what he was implying.

“So…you knew I was – “

“Ken-kun, I had been a battle-worn warrior before and now, a father to children who have been through so many things most will never even dream of in their lifetime. I know a flashback when I see one.”

Blinking, Kaneki looked back down at the remaining drink in his glass. It felt…good to know that there was someone who can read him like an open book, someone who can sympathize with him  on deeper levels and at the same time, pull him out of the haze. Already, he felt indebted to the King, both for the relaxing cocktail and the calm his words have rained down on him. He could see his reflection smiling meekly.

“Seeking the unspoken, taking the unneeded, coming up with just the right mix based on your observations…these are what you will learn under my guidance.”

That declaration had him straightening back up.

“Then you will take Kaneki-kun as your student, Grillby-san?” came Yoshimura’s query.

With a final draw of nicotine, Grillby removed the cigarette butt from his mouth. He took a second to ponder just how he would put it out when a small unfamiliar ashtray was presented before him. Letting out a thin stream of smoke, he followed the hand to its owner who grinned guiltily. He raised a questioning brow at her as he grinded his burnt out stick onto the ashtray’s surface.

“Undyne, let’s talk later about your apparent smoking habit,” he muttered forebodingly then turned back to his guests. “Yes, Yoshimura-san. I accept the kid as my student. Let this be our pact as the respective heads of our groups. The Underground shall welcome a new member and help Anteiku in its times of need. In return, Anteiku will respond at once when the Underground calls for it, be it in distress or merriment, no matter how small or ridiculous the reason…most of the time, it will probably be the latter.”

“I understand these conditions and promise that my group shall abide by them. I swear this as the manager and current head of Anteiku, Kuzen Yoshimura.”

“And I will make sure that my group shall not go back on this word. I swear this as the current King of the Underground, Grillby Fushichou. May our alliance be strong and unwavering in the face of danger.”

The two leaders shook on it, their left hands coming together firmly. There was something like finality in the air as they did this. But Kaneki knew this was just the beginning, especially for him.

_‘The King of the Underground as my mentor…’_

He felt a buzz that he doubted was from the cocktail. He was a little overwhelmed, but oddly looking forward to it as well. From what had been shown to him so far, it seemed like the Underground was a group as closely knit as Anteiku. Its members knew each other and were most likely residing in the 22nd Ward or were at least within close enough range that they could have their leader over with just a phone call.

And speaking of their leader…he let his lead gray eyes wander to the bandaged form.

Grillby seemed like a man of calm thinking and patience. From what he had said earlier, one can easily tell that he would rather talk the matter out and negotiate so that both parties could leave unscathed. But when bad becomes worst fast, he would deal with the offenders quickly, skillfully. He would resort to fighting only when pushed then he’d get it over with in no time. The artificial ghoul remembered Undyne’s words and from the scars on the man’s body, he could easily say that Grillby was at least an experienced fighter.

And he had his adoptive sons, Sans and Papyrus. They were both artificial ghouls like him so he figured their father would know how and what to actually train his new student with.

“Alright, Grillby-san. When does Kaneki-kun get to move in?”

He almost spat out his drink at that question.

“E-Eh? Yoshimura-san?” Kaneki called after making sure he had swallowed the pale red liquid in his mouth. “What do you mean by that?”

His former boss frowned slightly.

“Did you not hear what we were discussing?” he inquired back, his frown turning into a patient smile when the young man shook his head. “The 20th Ward is not exactly near the 22nd Ward. On busy days, the half-an-hour drive from there to here could easily become an hour or more. Anteiku can get crowded at times and I usually have Yomo out to run errands. It is on that problem that Grillby-san and I decided to let you stay here at his place during your training period with him. Besides, with how the Aogiri are out and about, it’s safer for you to stay in the 22nd Ward.”

“You bet,” Grillby sneered, the action bitter and unfitting on his calm persona. “I doubt they’d even think about setting foot in any of the Underground’s territories again with what we did three years ago. Those no good, worthless…”

His words dissolved into that foreign language he had used earlier. He caught himself before he could completely lose his cool and shook his head.

“Ah. Sorry. Never did like those jerks in the first place,” he apologized with a sigh, but perked back up with a clap of his hands, wincing when he forgot about his bad arm. “Back to the topic at hand, Ken-kun can move in next Wednesday. The middle of the week tends to be the bar’s slowest run. I can have his room prepared by then.”

“Excellent. What do you think, Kaneki-kun?”

Well, he wasn’t exactly given a choice in the first place. Still, it fascinated him. What would it be like to live with an actual family unit? With other artificial ghouls? Sans might be a problem, but all he had to do was to make sure he didn’t trigger a flashback. Other than that, the older of the two brothers seemed pretty lainback.

“I…” he trailed off with a moment’s hesitation. “I accept.”

“Wonderful!” Grillby exclaimed and he stood up to pat his new student’s shoulder. “Wednesday it is. Though if you change your mind, you can always tell Yoshimura-san. He’ll call me if anything changes.”

“That, I will do,” said old man agreed, also getting off his seat. “It looks like our meeting is adjourned. The ghouls under Anteiku’s protection will be pleased to hear that they have allies in the 22nd Ward.”

“I’m sure they will. And my people will be eager to venture the 20th Ward, knowing that there are eyes watching their backs. I enjoyed you and your companions’ presence, Yoshimura-san. Thank you for coming.”

“Likewise, Grillby-san. And I must thank you for calling us out in the first place and for allowing the bond between our groups to grow once more. I hope to see you next Wednesday.”

Yoshimura then proceeded to put his coat and hat back on. Once they were in place, he turned to his companions.

“Come along now, Yomo, Kaneki-kun. We must let Grillby-san rest.”

Yomo complied without a word, following his leader as they went for the door. Kaneki finished the last of his cocktail in even gulps, slow enough that he wouldn’t end up choking yet fast enough that he had downed the beverage within seconds. With the warmth from the cocktail filling him, he made his way to his self-appointed mentor.

“Ano, Grillby-san,” he started, making sure to use the preferred honorific, “thank you for the drink and for accepting me as your student. I will do my absolute best in whatever training methods you’ll plan out for me and I will remind myself to – “

“Geez, kid. Calm down. You’re rambling,” Grillby chuckled, patting the artificial ghoul on the head. “You know, she was right when she said I’d see myself in you.”

“She?”

“The Lady Toriel. You’ve met her, haven’t you? And yeah, I really see my younger self in you. Confused, edgy, seeking strength no matter what the form…ha. Even Sans was like that, back when he looked like he would bite my hand off every time I got near Papyrus.”

Kaneki tensed. The King seemed to have noticed this.

“You’re…wary of Sans, aren’t you?” he worded carefully, smiling when he received a silent nod. “The past week’s been hard on him, you see? When it’s like that, he’s easier to get a bad time. Besides, flashbacks can be real bitc – ahem – a pain in the neck. Trust me. I know what it’s like.”

He took the empty glass in his new student’s hand and moved back to behind the counter.

“Flashbacks aside, Sans is a pretty swell guy. He’s lazy as heck and obsessed with bad puns and jokes, but he means well most of the time. The bar regulars like having him around. Who knows, maybe you and him would get along like a house on fire if you’d give it a shot.”

“Maybe…yeah…”

“That’s all I ask. Now get out of my bar. Don’t want your ride leaving you with your stuff still back home, ne?”

“R-Right!”

Kaneki made a move to sprint to the door, but paused. He turned back to the man behind the counter and bowed low to him.

“G-Grillby-san! Thank you for wanting to be my mentor! I won’t let you down. I promise that!”

At the end of his shout, he straightened back up. He was greeted with a smile that sent warmth down to his very soul, like the gentle sun reappearing after a cold and rainy day.

“And I will hold you to that promise,” came the reply, as warm as his smile. “I’ll see you next Wednesday, Ken-kun.”

And with a final, firmer nod, the artificial ghoul walked out the door and exited the bar. He found his former boss waiting for him outside the already humming car, the door to the backseat open. He was about to board the vehicle when someone yelled at him.

“Oi!”

He looked over his shoulder and at the bar’s doorway. Frisk stood there with Undyne, the latter grinning toothily.

“I better see your ass back here next Wednesday, punk!” she said with a growl. “I’m looking forward to a new sparring partner and you better not disappoint me!”

Settling for an uncertain nod, Kaneki got into the back, Yoshimura closing the door behind him. He waved back when Frisk waved at him, her mouth open in a silent farewell. As the car pulled out of its occupied space, he looked up at the four-storey apartment and wondered just what it would be like to live there…

He found himself eager and determined to find out.

-|||-

Climbing up the spiraling staircase wasn’t that hard, but with how the rest of his day turned out, it was exhausting. If it was not for what he held in his good hand, he would’ve made it straight for his bedroom on the third floor.

When he reached the common area, he went for the sofa. His youngest was so busy in the adjacent kitchen that his footsteps went unheard. He basically dumped his tired body on the target furniture, sighing in relief when the cushions welcomed his back favorably. His golden eyes found the flashing television screen and he groaned when he remembered that he had left his glasses on the table downstairs. Looks like he’ll have to wait for Undyne and Frisk to finish cleaning up and hope that they brought his eyewear up for him. Until then, the History Channel was a blurry affair.

“What’s got your knickers in a bunch?”

He narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the fuzzy shapes onscreen. Giving up with a huff, he decided to grace the question with an answer.

“Forgot my darn glasses in the bar. Waiting for the other two to bring it up.”

“Damn. _Myopia_ ’re really feelin’ well. In hind _sight_ , you really should keep your lenses on ya all the time.”

He snorted at the purposeful wording. Stretching out his left arm to the side, he handed the filled mug over to his seatmate.

“Here.”

He let his arm drop limply when the mug was taken from his hand. There was a sip and a content hum and he could just imagine the relaxed smile on his seatmate’s face.

“Ya know, you should really start namin’ the drinks you make on the spot,” came the expected suggestion, one he’s heard several times over. “Some of them could give the Blazin’ Blue a run for its money.”

“Always slips my mind,” was the same old counter, ending the conversation then and there.

The TV droned on in their silence and he could really care less of what the guy with really wild hair – seriously, he could plainly see it even without his glasses – was saying. Ghouls being the byproduct of alien experimentation on early humans? Pffft.

“So,” he began, letting his eyes rest from having to strain them without their usual aid, “how much did you hear?”

He didn’t need his sight to know that his eldest had gone stiff. The kid was notorious for being his shadow, even more so in the two years he had spent as his group’s leader and his subordinates already had a nickname for the lainback young man. He had no doubt that the ‘Hound of the King’ had been lurking behind the back door earlier, listening in on the meeting instead of resting as he had been told to do.

“Well, it wasn’t that much. Not tryin’ _tibia_ spy and all ‘coz that’s more like Muffet’s – “

“Sans.”

There was a shuddering breath and Grillby opened his eyes to focus them on his seatmate. Sans took comfort in his drink, looking into the mug in a rather entranced manner before speaking up.

“…is he really gonna stay here? With us?”

The discomfort in his voice made his father want to give him a hug. Instead, knowing that space was needed, he settled for a comforting squeeze on the younger man’s shoulder.

“He can stay at other places. Muffet’s, Bonnie’s. Probably even at Mettaton’s, but it’ll be a stretch – “

“Oh please, Oyaji. Like anyone else knows how to handle kids like you do. Tori-baasan, yeah. Muffet and Bonnie? Maybe. But _Mettaton_? No one in their right mind would leave a kid, especially a young man, alone with that drama queen.”

He paused for a sip from his drink. When he continued, his mismatched eyes still held some discomfort, but there was a little conviction in them as well.

“So yeah. Ken Kaneki has to stay here. This place has more than enough space for another person. He’s…an artificial ghoul, but he’s also your student. It only makes sense that he stays at your place. I don’t have anything against him really. I-It’s just…”

At the tremble in his voice, Grillby moved in for a hug this time. He scooped his son closer with his good arm and rested his chin in tousled, bone white hair. It took a short while, but there were arms that hugged him back, the mug having been placed on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

“W-What if he’s s-still alive?” Sans asked feebly, so childlike. “W-What if he’s out there p-plotting how to get me and P-Papyrus back – “

“Hey. I’m here, I’m here,” his father soothed, rubbing circles on his back. “That _glaikit bas_ is long dead, remember? He won’t take you boys away from me and if he’s come back to life somehow as a zombie, I won’t let him. I won’t let anyone hurt you and Papyrus again. And as for the _cludgie_ responsible for Ken-kun, I’ll…”

Golden eyes turned crimson then and there as he muttered his intentions darkly.

“…find him. And most likely kill him.”

They spent the near quiet moment like that, one curled up in the embrace of the other. The scar on his neck itched and Grillby scowled when he remembered how he got it, who he got it from. He pulled his child closer to him, as if he could defend him from eyes hidden in the dark and hands cloaked in shadows.

“Niisan? Niisan, could you go upstairs and call – ah! Tousan!”

He blinked as his eyes went back to normal and looked over the back of the couch. Papyrus was standing there with a messy apron over his black slacks and white dress shirt. There was a rag over one shoulder and his recently cleaned hands were clasped together.

“Tousan, you’re here already?” he questioned, head cocked to the side a bit. “The meeting’s over? What’s with Niisan – “

Grillby gave him the signal to stop and come over. His youngest complied instantly, sitting by Sans’s other side. Seeing the state his brother was in, he bent down and hugged him from behind.

“…knock it off, Paps,” Sans grumbled, trying and failing to squirm out of his grasp.

“Aaaw. But you like it when I do this, Niisan,” Papyrus chirped happily, nuzzling his cheek in the blue hoodie. “Besides, _hug_ else can I make you feel better other than this way?”

“…OMG, Paps. That was a really bad pun.”

The younger sibling let out a fake gasp.

“You, reprimanding me for saying a pun and telling me it was _bad_? Who are you and what have you done to Niisan?”

Sans squirmed again, this time to face his brother.

“Who are _you_ and what have you done to Papyrus? Unless you really are _embracing_ your _pun_ ny side, bro. I’ll give ya A for effort.”

It was Papyrus’s turn to grumble, pulling away to fold his arms across his chest in mock hurt.

“Why did I even bother?”

“Because duh, bro. You love me enough to play with fire and get _burned_ in the process,” the elder brother responded then wriggled again. “And speaking of fire, get off me, you old candle. I swear to God, Oyaji. You can be more touchy-feely than Papyrus over here if you put your mind to it.”

“Aaaw. But you like it when I do this, kiddo~,” Grillby rumbled in a singsong, ignoring the yelp when he went as far as to rub his nose in his child’s bone white hair.

He laughed aloud when he was pushed away, the force weak enough that it didn’t send him bumping into the armrest on his bandaged arm.

“Jesus Christ, old man. Really pushin’ it, huh?”

As his laughter died down, he reached out to pat his eldest’s head.

“So…you okay?”

Sans shot him a questioning look before grinning. It wasn’t his usual, sometimes shit-eating, grin that he’d put on in front of the regulars. This one was smaller, more sincere and it seemed to reach his mismatched eyes more. Grillby wasn’t exactly sure how he did it, even after eleven years of living under one roof together, but it just looked that way and he thought it fitted his son more than his public façade.

“I…I will be,” Sans replied then his grin stretched wider. “Hey, Paps. Are ya done with the food yet? ‘Coz I’m _spaghetti_ n’ so hungry, I can eat an elephant.”

Left eye twitching, Papyrus grabbed one of the throw pillows on the sofa and screamed into it. When he removed the pillow from his face, he was greeted with his brother’s even wider grin and his father’s raised eyebrow.

“…I-I am fine!” he declared, coughing into his hand a bit. “And as for the food…yes! I am done and the Papyrus Great Special is ready to serve!”

“Cool, bro. I’ll go get Miss Fishy and the kid _pasta_ than you can say fettucine.”

The older sibling got up with a stretch, his brother already in the kitchen and preparing to serve the food. Taking the mug with him, he went for the stairs that led to the back of the bar.

“Sans! My glasses!” his father called after him, getting a raised mug as a reply.

Alone in the living room, Grillby wondered if he should move to his recliner or maybe to his bedroom. But exhaustion had suddenly crept up on him and he found himself yawning into his fist. He settled down on the couch, his head on the throw pillow and his feet propped up on the armrest. Sighing, he let his mind wander.

Looks like the spare room on the third floor needs some redecorating. He’ll have the wallpaper changed, the foldable cot replaced by an actual bed, the closet cleaned out and a few pieces of furniture like a desk and some shelves moved in. Any other detailed customization will be left to his new boarder, something that’d be most likely discussed once they’d warmed up to each other.

_‘Ken Kaneki…’_

He remembered the snowy white hair and the solemn lead gray eyes of the artificial ghoul in question. The Lady Toriel had told him of her brief meeting with Ken Kaneki and with her experienced eyes, she had seen both the potential and the trauma plaguing the young man. The King himself had seen it in the stiffness of his shoulders, in his downcast gaze, in the way he held himself in a manner that looked like he was ready to either fight or flee for his life. He had visibly tensed when the Lady had mentioned through the phone of the kid’s earlier decision to join the Aogiri Tree, but it was clear that Ken Kaneki was too good for that nest of vipers. It was in the way he had smiled earlier and in his hum as he savored his personal cocktail.

_‘Ken…Kaneki…’_

The kid only wanted to get stronger. And he had thought that joining the Aogiri was the only path to strength. As his mentor, Grillby will show him that terror and plunder were not signs of strength, that cowards and the truly desperate would resort to those two in their weakness. He had been a fearless fighter known as the Inferno once and now, the leader of a group that fought in and guarded the shadows of the 22nd Ward. He had an idea or two of what strength really is and how to reach it.

_‘…Ken…’_

He began to drift off, eyes fluttering close. The sound of plates and utensils being set down on the table faded as his hearing went out.

_‘…Kaneki…’_

_Snowy white turns hellfire blue. Lead gray frozen over by melancholy turns bright gold molten in anger._

_“Shit! It’s him! Run away!!”_

_“I will personally see to it that you will_ burn _.”_

_The young man glares at him for a moment longer before turning and running off into the deep woods._

_“You’ve killed off all of my men…!”_

_“…I…I want to…get stronger…”_

_He knows what he’ll see in the undergrowth, knows what he’ll go through all over again._

_“Y-You menace! Prepare to die!”_

_“…I fight to protect.”_

_Blood is still on his hands and screams are still in his ears and sins are still crawling down his back._

_“You are a_ freak _! A_ monster _! What did I ever do in my past life to get stuck with you?!”_

_“They left me! Everyone does! And soon, so will_ you _!”_

_And yet…_

_“What’s the catch? Why are you being so nice? Why are you helping us?”_

_“…S-Sans…go to your brother…I’ll be fine…”_

_He takes a step, a stride, and follows._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another quick note on Jacks.
> 
> Given their retarded regeneration, Jacks are prone to having scars on their bodies. While normal ghouls can have scars that'll fade away almost easily, the scars on Jacks will stay visible longer. Sometimes, they can be even permanent. Because of how easily they drain RC cells with usage of their kagune, Jacks tend to focus more on storing and keeping stock of their RC supply and would not waste it on things like faster regeneration or more stamina. They use their kagune as efficiently as possible and are known to take out droves of their enemies in a short amount of time.
> 
> Yes, Grillby smokes. He only does it when prompted of his past though. Smoking tends to distract him from what he had done before and he considers it an effective way of coping for him.
> 
> And he's Scottish. Yes. Scottish. Land of the ginger-haired folk with wonderful accents and haggis. LOLOL. Can anyone out there help with the slang and the curses they use? I found a website about that stuff, but I don't think I can rely on it that much...I'd really appreciate any help I can get.
> 
> Oh yeah. "Fushichou" is composed of three characters. "Fu" means not, "Shi" means death and "Chou" means bird. Put them together...and you get a phoenix! Yay! LOLOLOL.
> 
> Hope I did that one family moment some justice!

**Author's Note:**

> Right. Hiya there, my dear readers! Hope I struck your fancy with this baby! 
> 
> Just a few quick side notes. Of the two Post-Aogiri Arcs I had to choose from, one from the anime that had Kaneki defecting from Anteiku and joining the Aogiri Tree and the other from the manga wherein Kaneki still defected from Anteiku but made an anti-Aogiri group of his own, I picked the former over the later. It might not have happened in this fic, but I wanted to have Kaneki decide to join Aogiri because in that path, he seemed lonelier and in need of guidance...which is where our beloved folks from Undertale come in. The manga version was good, better even - considering how I don't really like it when the anime goes off the track the manga has been set on - but with how he went from Mr. Positive to Yamori Junior there and his "only the strong survive" policy, he and Flowey would be kick it off really well and God knows we don't need another Flowey...
> 
> And yes, Sans, Papyrus and Undyne are half-Japanese. Here's what their surnames mean:
> 
> Kotsuzui - "bone marrow", can also be alluded to "true spirit" (I know. I just HAD to use it. Also, when I searched what Sans was when translated to kanji, the characters "San" meant "praise" and "Su" meant "to be revived; revival"...according to my translator anyway. LOL. I might've also jumbled them up. LOLOL. But still, when put together, "Sansu Kotsuzui" can be read as "praise to the revival of the true spirit". Whateven.)
> 
> Watatsumi - "sea god", more specifically, Poseidon (Fitting, no?)
> 
> Alphys is not exactly Japanese, but she was born in Japan. Might as well consider her Japanese at heart. I know she feels that way. I don't think her surname "Malwick" has any significant meaning since I came up with it on the spot. To me, it sounded fitting to our favorite Royal Scientist (Gaster no longer exists in the real Undertale stuff, fangirls and fanboys, and there are just hints and bugs to his actual existence in the game so...yeah. LOL).
> 
> Frisk...dunno yet. But I'm satisfied with how I had her once as an Aogiri assassin and now as Toriel's adoptive daughter.
> 
> The Tokyo Revolution never really had that much of an impact on humans considering that it had started out as a peace treaty and the war that followed lasted only a year and a half. But to the ghouls of the capital, especially to the members of the Underground, it had been their one shot at peace with the humans. The ghouls don't like recalling it that much since it was so much of a failure.
> 
> And lastly, Asgore is dead in this fic. The neautral route that had been taken here has the Family Ending where the main characters can be considered as a working family unit and they don't blame Frisk for what happened to Asgore, who had been on the brink of madness due to forcing himself to become a kakuja by consuming six ghoul children.


End file.
